


as always

by epiattic



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Red String of Fate, RenAo Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 00:21:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3789682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epiattic/pseuds/epiattic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One shots written for RenAo Week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Tricks

**Author's Note:**

> **Day 2: Habits.** This fic is 90% me trying to satisfy my own dirty talk kink and 10% me trying to show everyone how cute Ren and Aoba are. Basically has next to nothing to do with Habits except for a brief moment in the middle. That’s okay because who can say no to RenAo smut, right?

With a final satisfied suck, Ren pulled himself off of Aoba’s cock. He licked his lips clean of any liquid that had escaped, a bitter mixture of his own saliva and Aoba’s come, while watching the signs of the work he’d done: Aoba’s limbs splayed out across the bed, weak and limp, his eyes fluttering open again, distant and hazy, his shoulders still shaking as the last aftershocks rolled through him. Ren straightened up with a last glance at Aoba’s cock, now softening but slick with the sheen of Ren’s saliva and liquids of its own making, before leaning back and settling down completely between Aoba’s knees. He brought a hand up to his jaw, which had that familiar tenderness, that satisfying ache of being open a little too far for a little too long. And maybe it was that, his hand near his mouth, that made him think of something he’d wondered about before but never bothered to ask.

“Aoba…,” he said slowly, quietly, watching the way Aoba’s nipples, pink and erect and lovely, rose and fell with the heaves of his chest. “Out of curiosity….”

Aoba looked up at him, mouth slowly curling into a concerned frown, his fists loosening as the sensations stopped their onslaught. “What’s wrong?”

“Why is it that we don’t speak to each other like they do in those videos that you used to watch?”

For a second, watching Aoba’s face go through three distinct and progressively rosier shades of red, Ren wasn’t sure that this had been the right thing to say. He knew that Aoba got rather self-conscious about his porn, because apparently that was a private thing not to be spoken of, and he didn’t want to make Aoba uncomfortable…but he _was_ curious. And Aoba’s blushing face was an incredible sight to behold. But sometimes it meant that Ren had said something strange or odd or bad.

Ren didn’t want to say anything bad.

Aoba glanced away. “People don’t say things like that in real life, silly,” he grumbled. “It’s different in those videos.”

Different. Ren wasn’t sure he totally understood. Such videos were essentially his only exposure to sex before Aoba, and though he generally relied on his instincts to guide him now, he had to wonder if the kind of sex that they had was usual or if it should be more like the stuff he’d caught glimpses of when he snooped through Aoba’s old downloads folder one day.

“Is it….” Ren paused. “Is it bad?”

Aoba’s eyes widened slightly, focusing back on Ren. “No, not bad exactly. Just doing that kind of thing would be…embarrassing.”

Ren could understand that. Ren found that now that he could properly identify feelings of shame and embarrassment, he felt them somewhat often. But not nearly as often as Aoba. Either way, he could see how such words could make one feel discomfited. He wasn’t sure himself that he’d be able to say things like the things he remembered hearing. Being straightforward was one thing he excelled at, but being frank in a teasing manner….

“Hey,” said Aoba, and Ren was brought back to the present by the sight of Aoba propped up on an elbow and leaning towards him, feel of his fingertips on his cheek. “You didn’t, uh…. You didn’t want to _try_ talking like that, did you?”

Ren frowned. “It would make you uncomfortable.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Aoba said. “Would you like it?”

Would he _like_ it? The thought had sincerely not crossed Ren’s mind yet, whether it would be something he’d find pleasurable or not. He supposed that, at the very least, it would be something unique, since Aoba spoke so rarely about sex, and generally when he did it was in a roundabout, euphemistic or elliptical way.

“I think it might be enjoyable to hear you say those things, Aoba,” Ren told him.

Aoba choked on his breath, like he had been expecting some different answer. Ren didn’t know how else he had been supposed to respond, since Aoba _had_ asked him, after all. But then Aoba glanced down, away from Ren, and drew his arms in over his chest. He was silent for a long moment, grappling with his own thoughts, before he opened his mouth to speak again.

“I guess I could…try. Just a little bit.”

Ren’s heart rate jumped. He hadn’t thought that this was something that he wanted, but now faced with the prospect the idea of Aoba’s mouth forming those kinds of filthy words with that kind of breathless, whining voice, he couldn’t deny that he could feel the desire for it through his body and into his hips. Leaning forward over Aoba, he took his now-softening cock in his hand and began to stroke it again.

“Thank you,” Ren said, meaningfully, allowing himself a small smile as he watched Aoba’s face for signs of his pleasure.

“Don’t thank me,” Aoba grumbled, immediately before his hips jerked when Ren pressed his thumb into the spot on his head that he knew he liked. He was hardening quickly despite how recent his last orgasm had been, and he was already slick, making Ren’s motions easy and smooth. “Just…ah—touch me.”

He spat out the words as quickly as he would if they’d been some food he’d eaten that carried the taste of mold. In response, Ren did as he was told and moved his unoccupied hand beneath Aoba, feeling to make sure he was still loose from his earlier preparations. Ren wasn’t disappointed by what he found and slipped two fingers inside with little resistance, pushing, thrusting, then curling, and it wasn’t long before Aoba’s legs were giving frantic little quivers on either side of him. It was cute, like every other thing about Aoba, like the way he was looking at him with want and heat suddenly blazing in his gaze.

“R-Ren,” Aoba gasped, twisting, wriggling, like he could hide his face as he spoke. “Please…please….”

His voice trailed off once, twice, his tongue seemingly unable to work around the words that wanted to come next. Ren stared down at him, quirked his head. He knew what Aoba wanted, he really did, and he could feel it in his own gut, burning and roiling. But there was something they’d agreed upon, and he couldn’t give in to it now.

“Aoba, instructions,” Ren prodded.

A moment of complete silence followed, during which Ren watched Aoba’s red cheeks puff up with air, as though all the word he wanted to say were catching there, before Aoba let out an unbidden, “Pfft.” And then suddenly he burst out, and was shaking, trembling with his full-bodied laughter, turning on his side and doubling in on himself in unrestrained amusement. Ren’s stomach tightened, dropped, and as he pulled back he frowned.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, feeling a little bit like he was collapsing in on himself.

Aoba took a moment of gasping between laughs to respond. “No,” he choked. “I mean—yes! But....”

Ren waited for Aoba’s laughter to fade, wondering what it was that he’d failed at. How he had done Aoba wrong. He had been told before, by a drunk Koujaku once, that laughter during sex was a good thing. But he didn’t think it should bring the entire experience to a halt. He had done something that prevented them from moving forward. Now Aoba didn’t want to do it with him. He was just going to sit there and laugh at whatever misjudgment Ren had made, and maybe his opinion of Ren was lessened now for it.

He felt uneasy and hunched his shoulders down, as though he could hide his bareness. But then Aoba glanced up at him with shining eyes, smiling wide. He sat up slowly, pushing up against Ren’s chest, making him straighten up, and reached for his face.

“That’s exactly what you’d used to say. In Rhyme,” Aoba explained, cupping his cheek with his hand. “It just seemed kind of out of place.” He flashed his teeth in an amused grin. “I wasn’t expecting it.”

“I’m sorry,” Ren said. He had an explanation for Aoba’s behavior but he didn’t feel any better about it. He had chosen the wrong words for the situation, even though they’d flowed out naturally to him.

But Aoba’s expression softened. “Don’t be sorry.” He drew up closer so that his face was close enough to Ren’s that he could feel his breath on his cheek. “That’s just how you are.” He placed a gentle kiss on the side of his jaw. “I really like that about you.”

Ren caught Aoba’s chin in his hand and jammed their mouths together, a little bit harder than he’d intended, but the way Aoba melted under him was sufficient to sweep any anxieties from his mind. He licked at his lips, his teeth, his tongue, experiencing the loveliness that was _Aoba_ , before Aoba broke away.

“Let’s try again,” he whispered, running a hand up into Ren’s hair and sinking his fingers needily into his scalp.

“Aoba,” Ren replied, suddenly self-conscious again. But he only knew one way he felt comfortable, and Aoba had said that he liked it. It just felt right. “Instructions.”

A grin flashed across Aoba’s face, but it wasn’t derisive or mocking. Entertained, maybe, but Ren could have sworn he caught the hint of something darker there, something lustful and seductive.

“Ren, please,” Aoba begged, laying himself back down and pulling Ren with him so that they were horizontal and flush. “Fuck me. Fuck me…really hard.”

A charged shock of arousal flashed through Ren.

“Roger,” he replied breathlessly, taking in the sight of Aoba below him. He was flushed and willing and his eyes gleamed dark and hungry where he looked at him, and Ren could feel his gripping want reflected in him. He ran one of his hands down Aoba’s side, dragging lightly against the smooth sweat-slicked skin, his palm taking in every ridge of the muscle and bone that laid below. He was incredible, and he was Ren’s, and to have him under his touch was a thing to cherish.

“Ren,” Aoba said. “Hurry.”

Ren’s immediate instinct was to obey, and he lifted his hand from Aoba’s side to relocate it to a more important area. But he caught himself before it could get there. With an apologetic glance up at Aoba, he kept his hand frozen in midair, between their bodies.

“Hurry…in order to do what?” Ren tried. The words felt unusual and awkward,

but the look that crossed Aoba’s face was worth his struggle.

“Hurry and _touch me_ ,” Aoba whined, slower and needier this time, and Ren buzzed with the heat that roared through him at this.

“Where should I touch you?”

Aoba took a lungful of air in a gulp and seemed to use this to bolster himself. “I need you to…touch my cock….”

Something about the low growl that rumbled up from Ren’s chest had Aoba looking up at him with a dazed desire, and with just a glance at his hazy eyes Ren didn’t want to wait anymore. He wrapped his fingers around Aoba with one hand, the other creeping further down to check one last time. But Aoba was ready, and Ren was _so ready_ , and he could barely contain himself as he lined himself up against Aoba. Grabbing his hips, he slowly, steadily, began to push inside. The way his blood was thundering through his veins, Ren could hardly muster the self-control to brush a sweat-matted clump of hair from Aoba’s face before cupping his face and asking him if he was doing alright once he was fully within him.

“I’m fine,” Aoba said, and then bit his lip and glanced away. “So hurry up. I want to feel you moving inside of me.”

Ren didn’t hold back.

The first snap of his hips was hard and fast, and Aoba let out such a sweet fragmented whimper that Ren couldn’t slow himself for the second and the third and all the rest. Instead he sunk his fingertips more firmly into Aoba’s flesh, to the point where he wondered distantly if his nails were hurting him, but the only thing he could read in Aoba’s face as he trained his gaze on it unwaveringly was an absolute and frantic pleasure. Aoba stared back at him, gasping and moaning and sighing, and if he the sight of him flushed and sweaty and wanting and fingers scrambling for a grip on something, _anything_ , and his head tossing with the unbearable sensations inside of him weren’t enough to make Ren dig deeper, thrust harder, then those sounds absolutely were.

Ren shifted his hips for Aoba, always for Aoba, and drove in again. Aoba’s response was for his eyes to shut, his arms to fly up around Ren’s neck.

“Ah, fuck!” Aoba gasped, uninhibited and uncontrolled. “That’s so—hah—good!”

“What is ‘so good’?” Ren leaned low and growled into Aoba’s ear, before his instincts took over and he bit down, fiercely, into his shoulder.

“You—!” was Aoba’s choppy response, bit into slivers by the rough thrusts barraging him. “Inside me. Ahh! You’re so—big!”

This was the impetus that pushed Ren dangerously close, that had his thrusts erratic and his brain blanking and his hold on Aoba tightening until their skin burned against each other, their muscles worked, strained together. He could feel him everywhere, Aoba, all his skin and their bodies together, connected, and the heat inside of him, and the way he moved so beautifully.

“You’re so _good_ ,” Aoba repeated, moaning, voice hoarse and breathy and desperate. “You’re so—hah… Ren...! Ren, I—love you!”

Ren came, he came hard, the release of pressure smashing back through his body so violently his head spun and his vision whited out and his entire world seemed to heave and convulse. He realized soon that it wasn’t the whole world but just him, spilling out into Aoba, filling him, watching Aoba himself arch his back off the mattress as the feeling of Ren spurting out drove him to his breaking point. Feeling Aoba’s semen splatter hot across his stomach and chest, his own wet and warm around him inside, Ren could do nothing but embrace Aoba roughly in his arms and feel the heat of his pleasure roll through him and then settle, gently, into a calm satisfaction.

They stayed like that for long, peaceful moments, Ren feeling Aoba’s pulse pound against him, his own thumping in response, his face buried in Aoba’s neck and Aoba’s arms around him, craving and comfortable. But after a moment Aoba began to move against the stickiness that was forming between them, pulling back from Ren to look into his face.

“How was that?” he asked, and Ren could see it there, his pleased little grin.

With a panting little, “Aoba,” Ren leaned down and kissed that grin, that happy smile, to let Aoba know that it was perfect, that everything about him was wonderful and good. With a movement natural and automatic, they pressed their foreheads together and looked into each other’s eyes.

“Thank you,” Ren said.

“Thank _you_ , Ren,” Aoba sighed. “As always.”

Ren smiled, warm and happy. “The pleasure is mine.”


	2. the problem with love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> insecurity happens even between soulmates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Day 3: Confession.** One of the things I love about RenAo is how secure it is. Like with all the boyfriends you know they’re going to be together forever and will only love each other, but with RenAo it feels like there’s not even the idea of a choice, they’re meant to be together. Despite that I was like HEY let’s play with Aoba’s abandonment issues.

Ren came home to find Aoba with the allmate in his lap and a distressed look on his face.

It disappeared, of course, the moment Aoba heard Ren in the room. Not even Ren’s concerned frown and keen Aoba-observation skills could keep him from replacing it quickly with a warm smile and a happy, “Welcome home!” before Ren could even think of the words to ask what was troubling him. But as Ren sat down beside him on the floor and began to tell him about his trip to the grocery store, how he’d embarrassingly dropped all the oranges at the check-out counter and how the nice cashier had just smiled and helped him, he couldn’t help but notice that Aoba’s motions were uneasy somehow. A lot of the time Ren came back from being out without Aoba, Aoba would at least hug him, sometimes draw in close and give him a kiss, and if he was in a particular mood he’d even crawl into his lap and fit himself there while telling Ren that he was proud of him. But not now.

There was something in the way Aoba’s lips curved downward, how his eyes darted away as Ren kept talking, how his fingers combed restlessly through the fur of the allmate that alarmed him. Something was on Aoba’s mind. He was thinking too much again. Ren had known him too well for too long to not notice it.

“Aoba,” he murmured, leaning forward and cupping his palm on Aoba’s cheek, thinking that maybe this would best draw his attention, and he found it soft and warm and so beautiful under his fingers. “Is there something wrong?”

“No.” Aoba quickly turned away, pulled his face from Ren’s hand, but Ren didn’t miss the way a glassy gleam appeared in his eyes. He couldn’t be sure, as he knew his own eyes were faulty, and maybe it was just a trick of the light…but those very well could have been the beginnings of tears.

“Aoba.” Ren leaned forward, the flash of desire to wrap his arms around him strong, but halted when he remembered the way his hand had been denied. Instead he stayed back, watching carefully. He didn’t have to observe too long to notice the way Aoba’s shoulders crept up like he was trying to shield himself from him, and then, slowly, they began to shake.

This was completely unexpected. Ren couldn’t even begin to imagine what may have happened while he was out. Helpless and bewildered, he hovered over Aoba’s back for a moment before settling back onto the floor. “Aoba, are you injured? Is there a problem?”

“No,” Aoba said again, and though he was doing his best to hide it a slight quiver came through in his tone. “I was just…thinking about some stuff.”

Ren waited for more. Aoba never hesitated to tell him what was on his mind. They spoke about everything and anything, even when it was embarrassing or personal or strange. Aoba had never delayed in telling him anything before, anything that he was seriously thinking. So why was he so silent now?  

No answer came.

“What is it?” Ren prodded gently.

He thought for a long moment that Aoba still wasn’t going to respond to him, but a gasping inhalation filled his lungs, and that broke his silence.

“Ren.” Aoba sniffled, bowing his head. “I mean, I—.” He paused, and took a deep breath. “All you’ve ever known was what you saw through my eyes, and then the inside of my bag, and my ankles as you ran after them. You’re—.”

Ren waited for Aoba’s shoulders to stop trembling, stop jerking with sudden erratic pushes from his lungs.

“You’re…your own person now. You can go out and meet other people, you can see new things on your own. What if you….” Ren leaned forward, craning around him to see his face, and found Aoba’s eyes closed, tears matting his eyelashes together before escaping down his cheeks. “What if you find someone you like more than me?”

There was a moment of striking silence, a stillness in which Ren felt like he was being rent, being sundered in two, his chest split down the middle and caving in without its supports. It was hard to breathe with his ribcage collapsed that way.

“Aoba,” he said, his airways blocked by some foreign obstruction. “Aoba, I could never—”

“You say that now,” Aoba cut in quietly, and the space between them weighed heavily on Ren. “But you don’t know. You don’t know who you could meet tomorrow or next week. Especially because you’ve never known. You’ve never known anyone but me. You’ve never….” Aoba broke into quiet sobs, and to Ren he had never looked so frail, so in need of protection.

But from what?

From Ren?

Ren had long since gotten used to the power that emotion had, the energy and the force with which it swept through his body, the way it could create a physical ache in every inch of him. He’d gotten used to it and he knew it, but he was still shocked by how strongly he felt this pain, this throbbing throughout his whole body. How could he have hurt Aoba like this? How could he have made him doubt him? What had he done?

“Aoba,” he said, voice bordering on demanding. He needed him to know. “Aoba, I could never leave you.”

“But you have before.”

The sting settled into his bones while Aoba let out a shaking sigh, wrapped up in his own arms. Ren was shocked still by it, silent and staring, for a long time, just watching Aoba look so small and feeling his entire body shatter and crumple inward. How could he have ever let this happen? How could he have let these notions creep into Aoba’s head?

How could he fix it?

“I’m sorry,” he said feebly, and he could hear the ache straining his own voice. “I’m sorry, Aoba. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Ren,” Aoba breathed. “It wasn’t your fault. But I….”

But he was still scared. Ren knew, Ren could feel it. He could feel it from himself, living in his own insecurities, and he could feel it in the loneliness that he knew was so present, so strong, in Aoba.

Ren would do everything he could to fight that fear.

This time he didn’t hesitate as he reached out, as he wrapped his arms around Aoba, as he pulled him into his lap and tucked him into his body. Aoba was limp and pliant as he came in, folding himself naturally into the curve of Ren, letting his arms support him and hold him to his chest. He leaned his head against Ren’s shoulder, and Ren, in turn, bowed his head down over him, as if he could encircle him completely, surround him on all sides with his warmth.

“Aoba,” Ren breathed into his hair, shutting his eyes. “I have loved you for my entire life. I will continue to love you always. It’s at the core of my being, Aoba. I exist to love you.”

“I know,” Aoba said into his shoulder, sobbing now, and the heat of his mouth bled through Ren’s shirt onto his skin. He didn’t care. “I know that. I just…get scared. Mom and Dad…they loved me too and they still….” Aoba took a huge shuddering gulp of air. “Ren, you loved me and you still….”

Ren held as much of Aoba as he could, tried to press every square inch of their bodies together, squeezed him so tight against his chest he wondered if they could take up the same space, merge into one. He wished there was some way, some way to convey to Aoba that his entire existence was for him, everything he was, is, and ever would be was for Aoba’s sake.

“Aoba, there are unfortunately things out of my control,” he said. “But as long as I’m able, I will stay by your side.”

It didn’t fix things. It didn’t make things better. There was always the possibility that there may come a day when Ren would have to leave Aoba for a reason that was beyond anything they could account for. One day one of them would die, for example. Ren couldn’t imagine that the other would be too far behind, and yet who knew what could happen.

But there was one thing that Ren could be certain of, and he could assure Aoba of its truth. He would never leave Aoba as long as he could stay with him. No one else in the world could ever consume his heart and mind and existence like Aoba did. No one else could ever provide him with this happiness or this warmth. No one else could evoke this fierce, determined love, the intense devotion he felt towards him. Maybe Ren _didn’t_ know a lot about the world yet, and maybe there were people in his life he had yet to meet and form relationships with. But he knew, he _felt_ sincerely throughout all of himself, that his entire being, his entire life, was completely dedicated to Aoba.

He told him. He told Aoba this, all of this, and Aoba slowly calmed. He was silent for a long while, thinking and breathing and feeling.

And then he reached up and looped his arms around Ren’s neck.

“Me too, Ren,” he breathed. “I think I can believe you…because I feel the same way.”

Ren sighed his relief into his hair. For the rest of the afternoon, and well into the night, he held Aoba so tight that he felt he could obliterate the painful thoughts from his head just by crushing them.

For the time being, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish a little bit that I'd had more time to explore the ideas here, especially jealousy and abandonment as more separate concepts, but oh well. Happy Day 3!


	3. unbroken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a little strange that Aoba’s red string of fate leads right to his robot dog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Day 5: AU.** So [Marie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptiivePrincess/pseuds/CaptiivePrincess) was talking about a red string of fate AU a lot and I was like I WANNA WRITE THAT but I didn’t quite know how to go about it so I just kind of wrote a little something about what life would be like if the events of the game were kind of the same except a red string connected everyone to their soulmate, and Aoba’s connected him to Ren through his whole life.

Aoba doesn’t remember a whole lot from when he was young, but one thing he does remember is wondering, briefly, why everyone else’s strings crisscrossed through the air and snaked across the ground and generally _went places_ like they had important things to do, when Aoba’s just…didn’t. No, Aoba’s was wrapped around his own pudgy finger, twice, and ended there. The other kids, with their bright red threads stretching off towards their future’s happiness, would ostracize him for it, but he was too buried in his own mind to notice. Later, things changed anyway.

He hasn’t wondered too much since then. He’s met people whose strings trail off to nothing but a few ragged fibers a foot off their hand, people who purposely don’t look at their fingers because the red of their string makes them feel things they’d rather not feel, even people with two, three strings knotted around their pinkies. There are all different kinds of people with all different kinds of strings, Aoba’s learned, and they all have situations just as strange and wonderful as his own.

Okay, maybe not all of them. Or any of them really. Because he’s pretty much the only person he’s ever met whose thread has led him straight to a robot dog.

He doesn’t think it’s really his Allmate who’s his soulmate. That just doesn’t make too much logical sense. Allmates aren’t people, and soulmates have to be people. Otherwise how can you fall in love with them? Allmates, while programmed to show emotion, really don’t _feel_ anything. They having coding, artificial intelligence, whatever it is that tells them what reactions to display when so that they have the appearance of feeling. While they show affection, and humans can have affection back, it’s not really possible for a machine, a machine shaped like a little blue spitz, to fall for someone.

He’s some kind of glitch in the system, probably. There’s _always_ been something wrong with is string, and he’s known it. While it doesn’t really plague him the way people worry about their day-to-day things, like if their clothes look okay or if they’ll be able to pay their bills on time or if people are talking about them behind their back, it is something that kind of always sits in a corner of his mind. Why doesn’t he have a _real_ soulmate? Was he supposed to end up alone? There wasn’t really anything wrong with that, but why connect him to his Allmate then? And what’s wrong with him, to have made him that way?

He asks Ren about it once, asks him if he knows _why_ they’re connected. Ren admits that he doesn’t, and immediately offers to run search on the internet for similar situations. He doesn’t have to, though. Aoba already has, at least a dozen times. He’s never come up with a satisfying explanation or found any stories from people in similar situations to his own. He figures he’s just one-of-a-kind, and that maybe, perhaps, Ren is supposed to be the most important thing in his life.

“I guess we just are soulmates, somehow,” Aoba says. He’s not sure about how the finer details of this work. He’d always assumed that a soulmate was someone, a _person_ , who you fell in love with and had a romantic relationship with and got married to and lived out your days beside. He’s not unhappy, though. He loves Ren. Of course he loves Ren. He’s always loved Ren, and he always will. And Ren loves him back, if a robot dog is capable of love, at least.

“I’ll remain by your side so long as I function,” Ren promises, and Aoba lifts him so that their foreheads press together.

 

Ren was wrong. He lied.

 

Aoba’s red string doesn't connect him to the Allmate anymore. It’s still there, still attached to his pinky, bright and distracting and a little bit—a _lot_ bit—painful. As far as he can tell it’s not it’s not broken or torn. It appears to stretch away, far away, somewhere long into the distance. Aoba tried to follow it once and found himself at the edge of the island, staring out at the dark dusk-touched sea. The string slipped into the water and disappeared, lapped at by its waves, lost in its depths. He’s considered trying to follow it further, but he doesn’t even know where to begin. Fly to the mainland, only to find that it stretches on past that? Follow it to its end to find something unimaginable? He can’t even begin to think of what could be there.

Ren is gone. He doesn’t know where he went or why, but he’s not here. But perhaps he’s somewhere? Aoba couldn’t imagine where, or what he would be doing. And maybe that’s not who’s at the end of his string at all. He’s never heard of a soulmate being replaced, but…the bottom line is that Ren vanished. Aoba’s lived his whole life thinking something was wrong with his string, after all, and he’s used to relying on that notion. This is just another weird thing in a series of weird things.

But he misses Ren. He misses how he could glance behind him and see the way their thread draped between them as Ren trotted after him on his tiny paws. He misses the way his fur felt pressed against his forehead and the way his deep voice vibrated in his little frame. He misses the way Ren’s arms felt warm and comfortable around him the single time they were finally able to hold each other. He thinks about how all this time his soulmate was exactly the person that it needed to be, and how he had never fully realized it until it was too late.

It’s disappointing, for sure. More than disappointing. The realization, along with the other pain he’s feeling, pushes at him with a persistent sense of despair.

 

Aoba doesn’t expect things to change the day he gets that call on his coil. But they do.

He barely notices anything as he hurries to the hospital, but some part of his preoccupied mind realizes that there is something weird going on with his thread. It usually trails behind him or to his side or loops around in some arbitrary direction. But today, today no matter which way he turns on his path to the hospital, it’s before him.

He doesn’t know what that means yet. But he’ll finally learn how little is wrong with his red string of fate.


	4. A Day Without

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren at least has time for a kiss before he goes out for the day, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Day 7: Discovery.** I'm not sure how much this has to do with discovery tbh...discovering what Aoba does when he's half-awake, maybe?

Ren was going out.

Earlier in the week, he had promised Tae that he would go help her with a patient today. He wasn’t entirely sure why she had asked him to accompany her, seeing as he still struggled with various fundamental parts of being human. Things like speaking to strangers and understanding when it was the time to say things and when it wasn’t and even just simply holding things in his hands without dropping them. And, of course, being anywhere at all without Aoba. Perhaps, he supposed, that in particular was why Tae had asked him. Aoba had to go in to work today, and Ren had to head out with her early in the morning to a faraway patient’s house and wouldn’t be back until late.

A day without Aoba.

He knew it wouldn’t be a terribly large issue. He’d spent a whole year without Aoba once. It hadn’t been easy, but it had happened. However, the mere knowledge that he _could_ didn’t stop his anxiety from rising when the alarm clock went off in the morning, hours before the time Aoba usually set it to. Ren hurried to turn it off as not to disturb his bedmate, but as he could have predicted, Aoba didn’t even budge at the noise. Before even leaving the warmth of the sheets Ren set two more alarms for him, since he wouldn’t have anyone around to wake him for work.

Ren rose, dressed, washed his face, brushed his teeth. He could do these things on his own now, completely without help, and he was proud of these small accomplishments. It meant that Aoba could keep sleeping peacefully as he got ready to leave, Aoba could stay in bed for awhile longer without being disturbed.

He knew he had to hurry and meet Tae downstairs at the time she wanted to leave, or she’d call through the house for him, potentially waking Aoba. Even worse, she could come up here and bring her usual racket with her, which would absolutely mean rousing Aoba. Ren had to be punctual and arrive downstairs before she could even consider shouting for him, which meant he didn’t really have any time to dally.

But there was one thing he had to do before he left.

Ren went to the bedside and stood over it, dragging the sheets up into the empty space he’d recent vacated. Aoba slept on, undisturbed, his hair splayed wildly across his pillow, lips parted in deep respiration, arms spread to occupy the entire bed as though Ren had never been there at all. Leaning down over Aoba, Ren gave him a single kiss, light and quick and quiet, and then pulled back some inches and hovered to take in the loveliness that was Aoba’s face. He hadn’t retreated very far, and Aoba must have felt his presence, because in his fractionally awake state he pursed his lips as if expecting more kisses to come raining down on them. When they were not forthcoming he frowned, concerned creases showing up in his forehead, and he lifted his head a little to search for Ren tactilely, eyes still shut tight.

Ren would have to scour his memory later to think about if he had ever seen anything cuter in his entire existence. But for now he could feel his chest closing up with how warm and thrilling it felt, and the way Aoba looked right now, with his neck craned up off the pillow and a pout and seeking lips, was so rich in its simple joy it made his fingers twitch. After a moment, Aoba, apparently having given up, dropped his head back to the bed and gave a sleepy sigh, his eyes never opening, his breathing pattern turning deep and even.

Again. Ren wanted it again.

He bent down close over Aoba again, whose lips parted almost expectantly as he came near, and pressed their mouths together, slow and lingering, before drawing back again. This time, only far enough so that Aoba’s face could be in focus as he, expectedly, continued to move his lips in a wanting, hopeful manner. The unconscious frown that appeared on his face as he slipped his tongue out to run over his lips made a laugh bubble up from somewhere deep inside of Ren. He had to go, but watching Aoba tilt his head as though preparing for someone else’s nose to nudge up against his own was by far the more important thing to do right now.

One more time.

This time Ren allowed his lips to hover only centimeters from Aoba’s, feeling his breath ghosting over his face for a moment. There was an electric tickle on their surface, a magnetism that he couldn’t fight even if he wanted to, and it felt like he was vibrating subtly with the want of him. But in an instant Aoba shoved up with more force than a mostly-sleeping person should really have and crashed their mouths together, and the tingling was replaced by a full-scale buzz all through his body. Ren was only taken by surprise for a second before he allowed his tongue to trace over Aoba’s lips in a broad, wet stroke, and then reluctantly, unhurriedly, pulled away.

This time Aoba used his arms, jerkily reaching upwards as he frowned his dissatisfied frown, the cute unaware pout that made Ren’s heart flutter almost painfully. Aoba fumbled one hand against Ren’s shoulder, but the other caught in the hair at the base of his skull and tugged him downwards again. Ren missed his lips and bumped his nose against his cheek, but he quickly oriented himself against Aoba’s mouth again and buried himself there, overcome by a moment of desperate happiness.

He had to leave.

He pressed in against Aoba once, twice more, before finally detangling himself from Aoba’s snaking arms and pulling further away. In response, Aoba made a muted frustrated, needy sound in the back of his throat, and Ren had to clench his fists in the sheets to keep himself from settling over Aoba and enjoying his lips for the rest of the morning. But the sound of his breathing quickly returned to his sleeping pattern, and Ren stood up straight and turned away to leave the room.

With his hand on the door he glanced back one last time at Aoba’s dozing form on the bed. As he was about to open it, he was surprised to hear the rustling of bedsheets, and turned to watch Aoba roll over onto his stomach, then slowly squint into full, or at least partial, wakefulness and prop himself up on his elbow. Hazel eyes unfocused, he looked for Ren, and when he found him he gave a satisfied yawn.

“Heading out?” he asked around his throatful of air.

“Yes,” Ren said quietly. He could hear the quiet bustle and clang of Tae moving around downstairs in the kitchen from here.

Aoba, appearing to not quite be completely in charge of his motor controls yet, let his eyes slip shut again for a long moment, though he remained up on his elbow. “Have fun today.” And then, lethargically, like a sigh in sleep, “I’ll miss you.”

He was disheveled, his hair hanging loose around his shoulders in bed-tangled clumps, his mouth and eyelids heavy with the weight of his drowsiness. But Ren had never seen anything so beautiful.

“I love you, Aoba,” he said.

Aoba’s face flopped straight down into his pillow in response, apparently having lost the strength to continue supporting himself. And although his answer was muffled into his bedding, Ren heard the sleep-slurred words loud and clear.

“Love you too, Ren.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well with that, my contributions for RenAo Week are over. I just really want to thank everyone who's shared in this week with me. RenAo deserves so much love and it made me so happy to see everyone who contributed work so hard to give them that. It's really been a blast! <3


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